


LET'S PLAY A LOVE GAME.

by edmstuck (orphan_account)



Category: Homestuck
Genre: Flushed Romance | Matesprits, M/M, Red Romance
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-05-24
Updated: 2012-05-24
Packaged: 2017-11-05 22:13:17
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 641
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/411561
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/edmstuck
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Dirk knows just what to say.</p>
            </blockquote>





	LET'S PLAY A LOVE GAME.

**Author's Note:**

> EDIT: this is less than relevant now wow fandom we tried
> 
> THOSE UPDATES, MAN. THOSE. UPDATES. uu has ascended quickly to my top favorites. I've loved Dirk/uu since the first pesterlog (getting hipster up in here) but goshdanggOSH UMBRAGE YOU ARE A CUTIE. <3
> 
> does this even qualify as smut idfk

At the moment, his eyes are near-golden, amber and brilliant and even soft as they look into yours, directly with no shades. He had removed them only moments before, setting the glasses carefully onto the table as he graces your cheek with a light touch. You're shivering, fists clenched and trembling as they grip at the blankets beneath you. His hand brushes against the collar of your shirt; your gaze shifts to the side, wide and frantic with a mix of want and need, confusion and desire.

"Fuck you, Dirk. Fuck. You." Your growls aren't even convincing to your own ears, and he's aware that you don't mean it at all. His breathy laughter makes your hair dance and tickle the side of your face because of how close he is. You hiss, but it breaks off into a whimpering noise near the end as his touch ghosts over your neck, fingers trailing to your chin and tilting your head up to force you to look at him. You suppose he means it as a way of controlling the situation - but for you, it's all too tender.

So. Fucking. Tender.

"Hello, lovely," he murmurs, lips barely coming in contact with yours when he speaks. You try to snarl; it comes out as a whine. He laughs again, short and quiet. It irritates you, but that emotion melts as soon as his other hand cups your cheek. Your vision locked onto his face at this point, you watch as his fair eyebrows raise in pleasure at your cooperation. A strand of his perfectly styled hair falls into your view.

A moment passes before you reach up and with unsteady hands tuck the hair back into its natural place. As your breathing hitches and speeds up with your action, his reaction is even more soft, lips pressing against yours so fucking cautiously that your body responds immediately. Your face flushes deeper, your eyes shut tight as your sight swims, and your arousal becomes more than apparent with the moan currently slipping from your mouth.

"You're so beautiful." He says this only after you've broken the kiss to pant, shallow breathing somehow still so heavy. His arms pull you up, snake around your waist, positioning you to sit in his lap. You face him, legs stretched out behind him, arms limp as you rest your head against his chest. Listening to the rhythm of his human bloodpusher. You could tear it out of his chest if you wanted to.

You don't.

"My heart beats for you," he whispers as if on cue, and you groan, biting down on your lip hard. Like that would even make a difference. He takes one of your hands and kisses each finger, your palm, the back. Every time he touches you so gently, the feeling is like a shock to your system, sending jolts straight to your crotch. Every word gets you closer and closer to where he's very obviously intending to take you.

"Would you like to know something, darling?" The tacked on term of endearment is said with sickening sweetness, and you moan, knowing you're on the edge and knowing what he's about to say. Your skin tingles where he's made contact. When his lips brush against your neck, moving to your ear, letting his breath pause and leave you almost begging for him to continue, he answers his own question without even a word from you. 

"I love you." 

You hit your limit hard and he kisses your lips all through it, cutting off your moans and curses and expletives. You insult him, his ancestors, his descendents, his alternates. You damn him to hell and back; yet you've never felt better, and he knows this too, pressing loving touches and whispering sweet nothings to your waiting ears.

Neither of you even took any clothes off.

**Author's Note:**

> i imagine dirk says "god, you are too easy" afterwards and uu punches him
> 
> tumut, dirk. tumut.


End file.
